Deception (3 page)

4

I was still shaking when Natalie walked in. I stepped unsteadily away from the storage closet door as she wandered through the store, her fingertips trailing over a rare bronze statue of the Persian god Mithras. She paused there, interest flickering in her brown eyes, then she spotted me and smiled. “So this is where you lurk when you’re not failing chemistry.”

“Hi,” I said, my heart still hammering from what had happened.

Natalie wove between display cases of Roman vases and ancient Greek jewelry. On good days, the place looked more like an art gallery than an antique shop. She stopped at the mummy of a cat. “Um. Is this a cat mummy?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“People
pay
for this stuff?”

“Ha.”

“I’d never sleep again.”

“Heh,” I said.

She finally noticed my inability to say anything but monosyllables and crossed the room toward me. “Emma, are you okay?”

No. No, I wasn’t. What was happening to me? Slipping into the past of someone else’s life had seemed so effortless, so real. But that was impossible.

I tried to wipe the goose pimples from my arms. “I’m just cold.”

“Oh, here.” She took off her black cardigan and draped it around my shoulders. “Is that better?”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

“I stopped by to talk to you about our party.” She cocked her head. “You
sure
you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Um, about the party? I’ve changed my mind. Natalie, my parents would kill me, and with everything else I’ve been going through …”

Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “What else have you been going through?”

“Nothing.” How was I supposed to explain about the ashes and the death mask? She wouldn’t believe me, even if I did tell her.

“You just need to chill,” she said, pulling a flyer from her bag, with “CATSAWAY PARTY” in letters cut from a magazine. The date and my address were handwritten in a Gothic font. I recognized Primus’s arty hand. “Cool, right?”

“Except you spelled
castaway
wrong,” I said, frantically trying to figure how I could get out of this. “And don’t expect palm trees.”

“It’s not
castaway,
Emma,” she said. “It’s
cat’s away
. As in, the mice will play. This is going to be the best party our school has ever seen. Kids from Uni are coming.”

“What?” Uni is short for Unity, the private high school in Pacific Heights, full of self-important posers. Max went there. “How do they even know about it?”

“The flyers are everywhere, Emma. There’s no turning back now.”

“Wait,” I said. “This is today!”

“Don’t worry, we have six hours to get ready.”

I guess six hours were enough, because by midnight the house was thumpin’. I’d like to think it was because I was so popular, but I’m pretty sure it was the kegs.

Actually, I wasn’t sure, because I was Elmered to the front door all night, with my thumb pressed to the security print. Every time I tried to step away and assess damages, the doorbell rang again.

The Natalie gang arrived first with the kegs. I hadn’t seen any of them since they set up in the kitchen. You’d think at least Daniel would’ve swapped Latin verses with me. And where was Jared? I wore my black miniskirt and no leggings just so he’d notice my boots again.

But the only one who noticed was a senior from Uni who said, “Sexy boots,” right before he yukked next to them. That’s when I left my post at the door and searched for Natalie.

I found her in the living room. With Jared. Making out. On Nefertiti’s head.

As I stood there, mouth agape, a hand snaked around my waist. “Baby, we’re all hooking up. I get you.”

I spun around and found Primus leering at me. I shoved him. “No, you don’t.”

“C’mon. Jared gets Natalie, Daniel gets Maisy.”

“That leaves you Caroline,” I said.

Primus pointed to the corner where Daniel, Maisy,
and
Caroline were locked in a threesome. I wanted to be blasé and cool with it, but I sort of felt: yuck.

And this whole time, the doorbell was ringing and dinging and driving me insane, and Natalie suddenly broke away from Jared and looked at me. “Why aren’t you answering the door?”

“Party’s over, Natalie! Some guy from Uni just puked in the hall!”

“Don’t be silly, everyone’s having the best time.” Natalie slid a proprietary hand over Jared. “Especially me.”

Jared didn’t even look at me
—
he was too entranced with Natalie. I’d always hated his Rip Curls anyway, whatever they were.

The doorbell continued to jangle. “Let them in,” Natalie told me.

“No.”

“Then I will,” she said.

I followed her down the hall. “How are you going to open it without my thumb?”

“That can be arranged.” She sidestepped the vomit. “Ew.” At the door, she turned to face me. “I know you didn’t want this party, Emma, and I’m sorry. About everything.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, but I’m not done yet.”

She opened the door, the alarm wailed, and the police were waiting outside.

5

The cops weren’t here about the party. They came because they got a report that I was living alone. Standing next to me in the doorway, Natalie became someone else. That bitchy girl who’s inexplicably always hated you.

“That’s right,” she confirmed. “She doesn’t even know how to get in touch with her parents.”

“I do too,” I blurted. “They’re just on vacation! Natalie!” Why was she doing this to me? What had I done to deserve this?

Natalie smiled sadly. “Oh, Emma, don’t lie. They can check.”

“We already have,” the cops said. “Child Protective Services is on the way.”

They let me stay long enough to clean the floor and make sure that nobody walked off with one of my mom’s Day of the Dead dolls. But they didn’t let me spend the night. Instead, they took me to a halfway house.

Halfway to what? Nowhere I wanted to go. The only good thing was that I didn’t dream
—
not about death masks or ashes or ghostly figures.

Probably because I was already in hell.

The next afternoon, I met with my CPS caseworker, a cadaverous man who looked way deader than anything in our apartment. Plus, his office smelled like formaldehyde, as if the embalmment had recently begun.

“You have two options, Miss Vaile,” he said, his voice devoid of inflection. “The first is
—
”

“Can’t I just phone my parents?” I asked.

“You may place a call, Miss Vaile, but according to the file, you don’t have your parents’ contact information.”

“But I do! It’s not like they’ve abandoned me.” Saying the words made me sick; it was
exactly
like they’d abandoned me. But I summoned a weak smile. “They’re just on vacation.”

The Cadaver opened a manila envelope and pulled out my cell phone, confiscated at the door of the halfway house. I guess they worry you’ll order out pizza … or crack.

I dialed, then paused as if listening to a ring, then said, “Mom! It’s me. No, things are fine. How’s the beach? What? No, that’s Max, you know I don’t like paragliding.” How come my mother preferred Max even during imaginary conversations? “Listen, I lost the information
—
when are you getting back exactly? Tomorrow night? That’s great, because …” I covered the mouthpiece and whispered to the cadaver. “I don’t have to tell her about all this, do I? I’m gonna be in
so
much trouble.”

“Hand me the phone,” Cadaver said.

“That’s okay, I’ll tell her,” I said. “Mom, don’t panic
—
”

Cadaver plucked the phone from my hand. And listened to “The customer you are dialing is out of the service area.”

“I guess she went through a tunnel,” I said.

He didn’t bother arguing. “Your first option is to stay in the halfway house until your parents are located.”

“No way. And those other kids shouldn’t have to stay there, either. Don’t you have better options for them?”

“Yes, there’s the street,” he said.

“Well, I don’t think that’s a better … oh.” Irony from the Cadaver.

“Your second option is to be placed with a foster family.”

“My parents are coming back.” I began to panic. “Why can’t you understand that?”

Cadaver shuffled papers on his desk. “You’re in luck. The Belcher family is available. They specialize in children with behavioral problems.”

Behavioral problems? What exactly was wrong with my behavior? It’s not like I set fire to the halfway house. “Is this about the fake call to my mom?”

“If you are unaware of what
—
” He stopped when the phone on his desk rang. He lifted the receiver and listened a moment. “For Miss Vaile? I find that hard to believe. Paperwork? Well. Send him in.” He hung up and told me, “There’s someone here for you. He claims he’s your legal guardian.”

Dad! They came back for me! Except no, Cadaver would’ve said my father was here, not my “guardian.”

Oh, maybe it was Max
—
he
would
pretend he was my guardian. Unless he really was my guardian, because Mom and Dad were … I swallowed hard, fighting back tears, and turned as the door opened.

It wasn’t Max. It was Bennett.

“Hello, Emma,” he said. “I
—
are you crying?”

“No.” I wiped at my eyes. “Just the last twenty-four hours … they haven’t been great.”

“I’ll see what I can do to make things better,” Bennett said.

“My hero.” I would’ve fallen in love with him then and there.

Except I already had.

I met Bennett two years ago, when he came home with Max on spring break. He was my picture ideal of what a Harvard freshman should look like: half preppy, half bohemian in faded polos and ripped khakis. His dark wavy hair fell perfectly across his brow, and every time he looked at me he seemed to be smiling. Max, on the other hand, had taken to brown plaid shirts and stovepipe corduroys
—
a look that suited no one.

Meeting Bennett was like meeting destiny. When he’d appeared behind Max, something had clicked. I couldn’t look away. I just
knew
. Maybe we weren’t meant to be together right then, but one day our lives would join.

He only stayed a week, yet my insides resonated every time he entered the room, like the right chord on a piano. So in a way his sudden reappearance simply felt right, after two years of fantasies. Of course, in my dreams Bennett wasn’t saving me from a foster family, but I wasn’t the type of girl to turn down a knight in J.Crew armor.

Except he wasn’t my guardian. He was just a friend of my brother’s. He wasn’t even distant family. Guardian
angel
maybe, with a tilted halo, not looking quite as innocent as he used to.

“I’ll need to examine your papers,” Cadaver told him.

“Of course.” Bennett handed them over and flashed me a look. The smile was still there, and so was his preppy-hippie style. He wore a white button-down, tattered blazer, dark-wash jeans, and loafers. His eyes were bright blue and thick lashed, and I forced myself to look away before the Cadaver realized I was hot for him. He wasn’t going to let me go off with the sexy guardian, like in some steamy romance novel.

“Does that mean
—
” I stopped. I didn’t want to say too much in front of Cadaver. “Have you seen my mom and dad recently?”

“No. Emma, I’m sorry. We arranged the guardianship before they left. You’ve heard from them though, right?”

“Well, they’re outside of cell reception so I can’t call them back. They’re with Max now
—
”

Bennett’s frown stopped me, and I recalled why he disappeared two years ago. He and Max had a blowout fight, some apocalyptic argument, and Max refused to speak of him ever again
—
even though a certain sister pestered him until he locked her in the bathroom. I’d never found out what they’d fought about. Now was my chance.

“Speaking of Max. Why did you two
—
”

Cadaver interrupted. “The paperwork
appears
to be in order. Still, one cannot be too careful.” He showed me the papers. “Look them over, Miss Vaile.”

I checked my parents’ signatures. My dad’s looked absolutely real, but I noticed a faint dotting of the
i
in
Vaile
on my mother’s. She never dotted her
i
’s. Still, the papers had been notarized, so Cadaver had no reason to doubt them
—
and I wasn’t going to live with the Belchers.

Plus, I didn’t have any reason not to trust Bennett. Not yet.

“That’s definitely their signatures,” I said. “Everything looks right to me.”

“You now have a third option,” the Cadaver told me. “The halfway house or the foster home, as previously discussed, becoming a temporary ward of the state until …”

I tuned him out as I gazed at Bennett. What was he doing here? How had he known to bring fake guardianship papers? Did he counterfeit the signatures himself?

And what exactly was that shade of blue in his eyes
—
cobalt?

Cadaver’s voice penetrated my reverie. “And your decision?”

“I choose Bennett.”